Better than the Bunker
by MajorSam
Summary: "So, uh… Welcome home!" Wyatt laughed nervously.
1. Chapter 1

**Better than the Bunker****  
By: MajorSam**

**Author's Notes: **Part 4 in the "Time after Time" series. Sorry it's taken me so long to post. I had huge, huge troubles with it for some reason. Hope it turned out okay. Multi-chapter. Thanks to PeachCheetah for putting up with months of me through my moaning that this sucked, and for the beta!

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"So, uh… Welcome home!" Wyatt laughed nervously.

Lucy smiled at him as she stepped across the threshold, pulling her single, small suitcase behind her. They'd agreed to not move everything in on the first day, the mostly abandoned apartment needing a deep clean before introducing Lucy's stuff. They also didn't want to plan too much for their first day together. They were still coming down from a mad whirlwind of days, weeks, years, really, and wanted nothing more than to just be together, away from the bunker, for the very fist time. If all they did was clean, and talk, they'd be happy. When had they ever been able to do _just_ that?

Lucy curiously peered about the apartment. She'd accepted Wyatt's offer to move in sight unseen, confident that no matter what his place was like it would be better than the bunker. Wyatt, however, had suddenly become shy about it.

"I haven't been here in like, a year or something," he rushed to tell her. "And even before that I never really used it much, so it's not super, y'know, homey, or anything. And probably really dusty. And I know it smells weird but that's just cause no windows have been opened in forever. And if you'd like to do anything to it, you know, change out furniture or whatever, you can-"

She cut off his rambling with her mouth on his, pushing him back until he hit the front door, closing it with a thump.

"Wyatt," she murmured against his lips., "It's fine. It's perfect." She leaned back to look into his eyes. "We're here, together, and that's all that matters."

He worried his lips together, still not convinced, but nodded. "I do mean it, though. Whatever you want to do to the place, just, go ahead."

She kissed him again and stroked his face. "I'm sure the two of us will figure something out."

He nodded, taking her hand in his and squeezing. She let him lead her through the small apartment, musty and dusty as promised, but worlds apart away from both the bunker, and her mother's big, memory filled house. It was everything she could have hoped for.

Even with the giant spiderweb she walked into in the doorway of the bathroom.

She yelped, hands flying to her face and hair as the fine strands caught on everything. A large, black spider dropped to the floor.

"Crap!" Wyatt cried, fleeing to the kitchen, hoping to find a towel, or some tissues, or really anything to help. He was on high-alert, full soldier mode, waiting to hear a scream from Lucy. He grabbed a shoe on the way back, ready to deal with the eight-legged devil but instead came to a full halt in the bathroom doorway. Lucy was crumpling up a wad of toilet paper and dropping it into the toilet. He looked around as she flushed it.

There was no spider in sight.

"Lucy?" he breathed.

"Uh-huh?" she turned to him with a bright smile.

"What… where's the…"

"It's on it's way far, far away from here."

He looked at her askance and she shifted under his gaze.

"What?" she frowned.

"You killed it?"

"Well I'm not exactly into pet spiders, so… yeah."

He shook his head at her, and she walked towards him, frowning as she loosely draped her arms around his neck. Ever since they'd finally gotten together, she couldn't seem to stop touching him. Reassuring herself that he was really there with her, alive. Relishing in the fact that she was _allowed _to touch him now. "What is it?"

His hands framed her hips, just as needy for the contact. "Jess… she hated spiders. Couldn't even be in the same room as one. I always had to come to her rescue, and I guess I assumed…" he trailed off.

"That I would be the same?" she smiled softly. He nodded. "Well I admit I hate spiders too, but most people do so that's not surprising. When I was little my dad would kill them for me but when he died... I had to take over that duty for the house."

"Not your mom?"

She shook her head as she grabbed some more toilet paper to clear away the lingering remains of cobweb. "My mom was rarely home. Besides being a big deal in the field of history, she was creating the new department at Stanford. Her legacy. She got home late most nights and got straight to cracking the whip at me to make sure I was ahead on my studies. In between school and her getting home I basically either did homework or housework. Plus getting Amy to and from school and extra-curriculars, minor repairs-"

"Woah, woah, woah," cut in Wyatt. "Minor repairs?"

She winked at him, sly, as she opened the cupboard under the sink wide, looking for more cleaning supplies. "My dad taught me how. He always got me to help him when something went wrong. Leaky pipes, broken laundry machine, change a tire, engine tweaks, you name it."

Wyatt's jaw dropped and his hands flew up to stop her talking. "Hold on a minute. Are you telling me you used to work on cars?"

She winked at him again, saucy as all get out. "Mmhmm."

He growled and lunged at her, hauling her into his arms and kissing her senseless. She let him, giving back just as good, though her lips quivered with laughter. She knew he'd be excited by that revelation. By the time they finally pulled back for air, Lucy was sitting up on the counter beside the sink, legs wrapped around him. She laughed when he dove in for more, pushing him gently back.

"Calm down, there. We have a lot to do before all _that_ starts."

"We do? No we don't'Forget it,! Iit can wait! I mean… Lucy, you can work on _cars_? I thought you knew nothing about them?"

"I don't know anything about makes or models or anything like that. But the basic functions are all the same and I can work a bit with those, yeah."

"You realize how hot that is to me, right?"

She allowed him another quick, hot kiss.

"What am I saying," he laughed and shook his head at himself. "Of course you know how hot it is. That's why you told me."

She shrugged a shoulder, grinning innocently.

"Minx," he narrowed his eyes, but smiled fondly. "What else don't I know about you?"

"Oh, so very much."

"Is this what our life is gonna be like now? You, dropping these little knowledge bombs, driving me crazy while we clean the house, and do laundry, and go get groceries?"

She stroked a hand down his cheek, scratching at his stubble. "I hope so."

He beamed. "Me too."

"And if you feel like dropping any knowledge bombs on me," she hinted.

"I'll keep that in mind." He went in for another kiss, but she stopped him.

"No," she shook her head. "No hanky panky. We still have a lot of work to do."

He pouted, but she was firm. "I am not christening our bedroom while there's an inch of dust over everything in the apartment."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"Get used to it."

"Yes ma'am."

Lucy giggled as they worked in unison to pull the scant amount of cleaning products from under the sink, carrying them to the kitchen to asses the supplies there. Being Boxing Day, neither had felt like braving any stores, agreeing before they left the bunker that they'd just make do with what they had.

"Should have got a cleaning crew to come through first," Wyatt noted while they wiped down counters.

"iIt's not like we could have planned suddenly moving in here," Lucy countered. "Two days ago, we had no idea we were going to defeat Rittenhouse and suddenly be freed from the bunker."

"There is that."

She paused for a moment, leaning back against the fridge. "I mean… can you believe this? Two days ago we had no Rufus, we had no exact plan to get him back, we had no _us_… and now here we are. Free. Cleaning _our_ kitchen."

He threw some dirty paper towels in the garbage as he shook his head. "I know. I can't really believe it either. Everything happened so fast but here we are, and, well, if I'm honest it almost doesn't feel real. It kind of feels like a dream. You know?"

"Even with the cleaning?"

"Even with the cleaning. I mean, it's so banal and domestic, but… it's nice." He smiled at her, a bit shy at the admission. Warmth suffused her as she crossed the few steps towards him and encompassed him in a hug. Laying her head against his chest for a moment, she sighed.

"It is. Very nice."

"After hunting time travelling cult wackos, though, we'll probably be bored to tears in a matter of weeks."

She laughed against him. "Hey now. I think we'll last a bit longer than that. Real life can be a big enough adventure in its own way."

Wyatt laid his cheek on the top of her head, a hand on the small of her back, thumb rubbing back and forth. "Yeah, you're right. I think it'll be a long, long time before I could ever get bored of this."

They held each other for a few more minutes, swaying lightly back and forth as they contemplated the years that had brought them to that moment, and the years to come. How different they would be. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

"I've never actually lived with a boyfriend before," Lucy broke the silence.

Wyatt pulled back to look at her.

"Really?"

She nodded, grabbing a wad of paper towel and a cleaning spray, resuming the cleansing of the stovetop. "I've had one or two lengthier relationships, but they never lasted long enough to move in together. I mean I guess there was Noah, but… I don't really count that."

Wyatt started work on the shelves inside the fridge, chuckling at her last comment. "No kidding. I'm surprised, though. Between all your years attending college, then all your years teaching college… , I'd have thought every male nerd with a pulse would have been after you."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, some tried. Some succeeded up to a point. But I was way too focused on first getting my PhD, then heading straight for tenure. They thought my obsessive focus was cute at first, but in the end none of them could handle my long hours. I would study, or work, then come home and study or work more. I guess in the end I always realized I loved my work more than them."

"So, if I see you bringing a stack of new books home, I should be worried?"

She dropped her towel onto the stove, whirling around while shaking her head insistently. "No! No, Wyatt, you have nothing to be worried about." She reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "Trust me when I say you are completely unlike any of those guys. They never had a chance. You had my heart from day one."

"Day one? I thought it was from the Alamo?"

"Don't be an ass," she scolded, the grin on her face belying any actual anger.

"I'll do my best."

They went back to their tasks, quickly finishing the kitchen and moving on to the living room. Lucy got to work on the coffee table and TV stand while Wyatt fished out a vacuum cleaner.

"I don't think I've ever even used this," he laughed. "Homeland set me up here after our first mission, when it became clear the assignment wouldn't be a quick one and done. But I rarely ever used it. Between a few of our missions the first year, sure, but then Mason Industries blew up and we all moved to the bunker, and, well, you know the rest."

Lucy rubbed the surface of the coffee table a bit harder for a moment at the mention of their first headquarters blowing up. "Yeah."

"I actually thought they'd let the place go. I didn't have much stuff in it and was a bit too preoccupied with saving history to care about it anyways, so I just left it all. I didn't know until recently that Agent Christopher arranged for it to be kept. I'm sure glad of that now."

"I'll say," Lucy called out over the vacuum Wyatt had just turned on. "There's no way I could sleep another night in my house. If you hadn't had this place… we'd be living out of a hotel."

"Still better than the bunker!"

"Hell yes!"

The pair worked well together, moving through each room of the small apartment with ease. To say it was sparsely furnished was an understatement, so there wasn't much to do beyond vacuuming and lots of dusting. The time passed swiftly as they talked. It was the most time they'd ever had to just chat to with each other, uninterrupted, about normal things, and both were relieved at how comfortable it was. The dopey smiles they kept catching on the other's face didn't hurt either. They knew they loved one another but throwing themselves into cohabitation was a leap that could still go terribly wrong or be terribly awkward. They were happy content to keep riding the wave of contentment they seemed to be on.

When they got to the last room, the bedroom, Wyatt's stammering returned.

"So, uh… I'll clear out some drawers and stuff for you,." hHe hurried into the room ahead of her and beelined for the single, mid-sized dresser. He opened the top drawer and threw its few contents onto the unmade bed. The second drawer was emptied just as fast.

"There you go," he gestured at the empty drawers. "And the closet is almost bare, too, so… do you want the left or the right side?" He hustled over to the sliding door wall closet and slid the right panel over to the left. Reaching up, he pushed the dozen or so hangers holding clothes over to the far side. "I know you have a lot of clothes, so you can have most of the space. And we can get a second dresser, or something, and-"

"Wyatt!"

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him from behind, laying a hand over his heart. "Calm down."

He took a deep breath, held it for a second, then exhaled slowly. "Sorry."

"There's nothing to be nervous about."

"I know." He turned in her arms, looking down at her. He brushed a strand of hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "It's just… I've only ever lived with my dad, Grandpa Sherwin, and Jess. Then alone, of course, for six years. But I spent most of that in on army bases and on tourdeployments, and that's not the same. That was never _home_."

He led her to the bed and sat down, encouraging her to sit beside him. He took hold of her hand, looking at it as he spoke.

"Living with Jess was, well… it was what it was. It was great for a long timewhile, and then it wasn't. However I may have romanticized it in my head the last six years, I realize now, looking back, that a lot of it wasn't actually healthy. And I don't want that to happen to us. I want to do this right, straight from the beginning."

She leaned over and kissed him softly. "It won't happen to us," she assured him. "And you will do this right. You already are. You don't need to give up all your space now that I'm here. I know you've been living alone for a long time, and that this will be a big change for you. It is for me too. But I don't want to suddenly barrel in and take over everything."

"But I want you to!" he blurted out, then cringed, and laughed awkwardly. "I didn't… I don't, actually like living alone."

"Really?" she rubbed his knee, letting him know he didn't need to be embarrassed. "No wild bachelor pad lifestyle?"

He scoffed at her and rolled his eyes. "Have you seen this place? A party house it is not. And my last place wasn't either. It was mostly a sad, neglected hovel. The only action it saw was too much drinking topped with the occasional bout of depression."

"Wyatt…" she reached up to touch his cheek, her eyes going wide and shiny.

"No," he shook her hand off. "None of that. Today is a happy day, and the beginning of our future. We are not dwelling on the past."

She sniffed but nodded her head. "Right. Back to work?"

"Yup."

They hopped off the bed, looking around at what needed to be done.

"How bout I throw the sheets and stuff into the laundry while you get your suitcase and start unpacking?"

"Sure!"

A few minutes later the laundry was churning away, and the couple were folding clothes on top of the mattress. It was Lucy this time who laughed first, shaking her head at a pair of grey socks that lay resting in her lap.

"I used to hate folding laundry. My mom loved order in all things, so leaving piles of clothes all over my room was my way of rebellion. But this, us, right now? There's nowhere I'd rather be. I'm _enjoying_ it. What is wrong with me?"

Wyatt laughed with her. "When you're on base they're insane about keeping things in order. There are literal rules about how many socks can be in your drawer, and how much space must be between them, and how far from the edge they must be. There are tons of reasons for that, some of which I thought were ridiculous, but I still did it. Right now, though… it's the first time I've actually enjoyed it, too.

Lucy kept laughing. "Look at us. One day off the job and we've gone soft already! What's next? Am I going to like doing the dishes now too?"

"Guess it takes a couple years of time travelling to make one appreciate the simple things in life."

"It certainly made me appreciate some other things in the meantime, too."

He looked at her in interest and found her waggling her eyebrows at him. "Oh really?"

"Mmhmm."

"Such as?"

"Oh, y'know," she shrugged and dropped the socks to the side, rising onto her knees. She shuffled over to him, throwing a leg over his lap and sitting down into it. "There's a certain reckless hothead who grew on me quite a bit."

"Get out of town," he said with mock surprise. "I met a bossy know-it-all who turned out not half bad either!"

She giggled as they both leaned forward to kiss.

Several minutes later most of the socks were on the floor, as was the t-shirt Wyatt had been wearing. He was just about to go for Lucy's when the loud beep of the laundry machine interrupted them. Wyatt groaned and dropped his head into the cove of her shoulder and neck.

"I guess this is part of our normal life now, too. We've gone from getting clockblocked by Rufus to clockblocked by chores."

"Clockblocked?" she laughed as he helped her off the bed.

"Don't tell me you've never thought of that term before."

"Okay, fine. I have."

"Ha!" He strutted triumphantly down the hallway to open the laundry closet door. Lucy watched as he efficiently swapped the wet bed ware into the dryer above the washer.

"Can I ask you something?" she gnawed on a lip anxiously.

"You can ask me anything."

"Growing up with your dad…"

He closed the dryer door, then the closet door, and turned to look at her. "Kind of like with your mom. I had to do all the housework. My dad was either working, or too drunk to do anything. It's how I learned to cook, too. Necessity. It was one of the only ways I could think of to try sober him up."

Lucy's heart lurched for him, but she sucked in a breath before she could get carried away. Not dwelling on the past, she reminded herself.

"I have to say I'm very much looking forward to testing out those skills. Your cooking, that is."

Wyatt grinned cheekily at her. "With what I've seen of your attempts at cooking in the bunker, I think it's safe to say I'll be the head chef of the household, yes."

Lucy shrugged, fully aware of how disastrous she was in the kitchen. "Can't be good at everything, you know."

"Oh, so modest."

She grinned up at him. "And now I have you to do the things I can't."

"Like reach stuff on the top shelves?"

She glared at him and smacked him on the shoulder, but then sighed and nodded. "Actually yeah…"

He laughed and gathered her in his arms. "We're a perfect pair."

"We are, actually. I'm realizing more and more."

He sighed happily, just looking into her eyes for a minute before dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "You know I think we're about done cleaning. I'd love to get cooking for you right away but there's nothing here that wouldn't poison us. Want to order something in?"

She agreed, and they started walking towards the kitchen, where Wyatt pulled out a fat stack of take-out menus from a small drawer.

"Thought you said you cooked?"

"After the fourth or fifth time being interrupted by calls from Agent Christopher, I kind of gave up doing it here. I got sick of coming back to rotten, half cooked food."

"Fair enough."

"So what do you like, anyways? What are some of your favourite foods?"

Lucy suddenly burst into laughter, completely cracking up, hands flying to her mouth to try containing it. Wyatt dropped the menus onto the counter and stepped towards her with concern.

"I'm okay," she wheezed. "Don't worry. You just… oh, wow."

"What? What did I do?" Wyatt was thoroughly baffled.

Lucy sucked in a few deep breaths and finally started to get herself under control.

"Sorry," she grinned wryly. "But you just threw me right back to my disastrous date night with Noah. You remember that?"

He frowned at being compared to Noah but nodded.

"I'd ordered in but tried to make it look like I'd cooked. I wasn't sure if the other me had been able to, so thought I should at least try to look like I'd made the effort. He figured me out easily and the whole thing was incredibly awkward. Then I tried to be nonchalant and ask him what his favourite foods were. I mean, we were supposed to be engaged and I didn't even know what his favourite foods were! He thought I was being super weird and called me out for asking a random, first date sort of question. The night continued to roll further into disaster from there." she stopped for a moment and gathered both his hands with hers. "And here we are, after all we've been through, now living together, having already agreed to have babies for God's sake… and we don't even know what each other's favourite foods are."

"It's kind of bizarre to think that we've eaten more food together in the past than we have in the present."

"I guess we just have to keep making up for lost time," Lucy suggested. "After all, we haven't even gone on our first date yet!"

"You mean Bonnie and Clyde didn't count? The trunk of Lucille the car? Hollywood?"

"You trying to get out of taking me on a proper date, Logan?"

"I would never turn down the chance," he swore. "But I think we're well past first date stage. I may not know your favourite take-out, but I know how you handle imprisonment and certain death at the hands of a tribe of Shawnee, so…"

"We are the most unconventional couple ever."

"Of all time, you could say."

She groaned and shook her head. "Are you going to say cheesy stuff like that on a regular basis?"

"I fully intend to, yeah. With all the material we've wracked up over the years? All, what, 326 of them?"

"You never went to Salem."

"Fine. All 264 of them."

"I can't believe you know that off the top of your head."

"Hey, clearly you do too."

"So we're both nerds?"

"Seems so. You must have been a bad influence on me."

"Me?" she cried, indignant. "You were already a nerd too. You just didn't realize it."

"I'm not a nerd!"

"Okay, Mr. I know everything about every car ever made, and absolutely everything about military history, and oh, yeah, I speak four languages, too."

Wyatt blushed and looked down at his feet. "Most of that's just useless crap. Stuff I heard that just stuck around."

"No, it's not!" Lucy said sternly. "Wyatt, it's amazing. You're amazing. Being nerdy, or smart, isn't something to be embarrassed about."

"It didn't really win you points where I came from. Or in the army."

"Well screw where you came from, and the people who couldn't see how remarkable you are. And don't feed me that line about dumb soldiers. You're delta force, one of the most elite teams on the planet. You don't get into that by being an idiot who can shoot well."

"Well I _am_ a pretty damn good shot," he tried to joke.

"Don't deflect, Wyatt."

"Sorry," he looked at his feet again. "I'm not used to people saying stuff like that to me."

"Well," she wound her arms around his neck and stood up on her toes to softly kiss him. "Get used to it, soldier."

"I'll give it my best shot, ma'am."

They kissed until he backed her up against the counter, his hands reaching out to grab it, bracketing her slim frame with his arms. Lucy stretched her arms back to hoist herself up onto the counter, but her left hand hit the pile of take-out menus and slipped, shooting straight out to the side. She let out a muffled cry against his mouth as her body tumbled sideways. His arms clamped around her instinctively, not letting her fall and gathering her tight against his body. For a moment they were still, hearts beating against each other as their adrenaline faded. Her head tucked into his shoulder and she breathed him in, exhaling loudly. He chuckled, his broad chest rumbling beneath hers.

"Another thing I have to get used to?"

"Shut up," she laughed. "I only trip, like, once a month."

"Oh, is that all?"

"And I rarely break glasses. Anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Stories for another day."

He loosened his hold on her enough that he could bend down and kiss her. "I can't wait."

They grinned at each other for a moment, basking in the sure knowledge of so many more days together. Then Lucy's stomach grumbled. Loudly.

"And that's our cue," Wyatt laughed and let her go. "So, without any fits of hysteria this time… what _are_ your favourite foods?"

To Be Continued…

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So... to be honest I'm still not happy at all with how this turned out. I don't think I captured the giddiness I think they'd feel. The out-of-placeness. The nervousness at sudden cohabitation. The beginning of the come-down after all the madness of the last few days/weeks/years... But oh well. Two more chapters of hopefully making some of that happen. It's all written and ready. Speed of posting depends on you guys ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Okay, so… big surprise to NO ONE, this chapter is rated M. Woopsies. Hope you guys don't mind! ;)

Do you guys want me to up the rating of the whole story to M, or are you okay with me warning you about this chapter? Please let me know! 

* * *

An hour later they were on the couch, empty containers of Thai food scattered across the coffee table.

"God that was good," Wyatt groaned, sinking further into the couch. "I love burgers and all, but _historical_ American food really sucks."

"I'm definitely ready to eat my way across the world," Lucy agreed. "The present-day world."

"How about we try a different type of food each week? Work our way through every place that'll deliver?"

She nodded eagerly and leaned in to kiss him. "Sounds great."

They could make plans like that now. Standing events that they knew wouldn't be interrupted by a phone call that could send them to their death or return them to a world entirely changed. For a moment Lucy was almost overwhelmed with the possibilities of all they could do, now.

Then Wyatt kissed her again put an arm around her shoulder. She scooted further into his side and nestled into him.

"So tell me again about how you work on cars?"

She laughed into him, laying a kiss to his chest. "I knew that would start something."

"Duh."

She laid an arm across his stomach, cuddling further in. "It was with my dad. He never believed in bullshit like 'Cars are for boys, girls should play with dolls'. He always encouraged Amy and me to say what we were interested in, no matter what, and he would try to help us learn about it. I was so fascinated the first time I saw him open the hood of his car, I immediately demanded to help."

Wyatt chuckled below her, imagining a tiny Lucy, pigtails bouncing, bossily declaring she was going to help.

"My dad was great with me. Patient. I tripped over stuff a lot and wrenches would often go flying, but we'd always get the job done, and he'd be so proud of me."

"Sounds like a great guy."

She looked up at him, his clear blue eyes slightly drawn.

"He was," she said, squeezing his side. "I wish you could have known a father like him. You would have loved him. And he would have loved you."

Wyatt was quiet when he replied. "You really think so?"

"Absolutely. You two would have been quite the pair." She reached up to stroke the bangs from his forehead. "You didn't deserve your dad."

"And you didn't deserve what happened with your mom."

Lucy sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. "Yeah. You know, I miss my dad still, all the time, but now I'm so glad he wasn't around to see what my mother really was."

"Neither of us have really great family histories…" he trailed off.

"Which is why we, together, have to start a great one," she said firmly. "There's no way either of us could become what our parents were. I am absolutely certain of that. I'd never let you, and you'd never let me."

"Sounds like a deal."

"And besides," she suddenly smirked. "let's not get ahead of ourselves. In order to screw up a family, you have to make one first. And we haven't done that yet."

Wyatt sat up straight, raising her to eye level. "No, we haven't," he smirked back. "But I think we'll be ready soon enough."

"Hmm," she brought her hands to sift through his hair, kissing him long and slow. "I think we need a little more practice first."

"Practice does make perfect." He kissed her again and helped her maneuver to straddle his lap, hands slipping to her backside.

She hummed her agreement as she gathered his face in her hands, opening her mouth wide to kiss him harder, deeper. His hands tightened around her ass then slid under the hem of her sweater. She lifted her hands for a moment to let him tug the sweater off, returning them to his face the moment they were free. He began to explore the expanse of newly revealed skin, calloused fingers against soft, pale skin. She sank deeper into his lap, tilting her hips purposely against his. He groaned - as was her goal - and she smiled against his lips. Seconds later his shirt joined hers on the floor. She giggled as his hands went straight for her jeans.

"Eager much?"

"Hey," he defended, slipping his hands under her waistband and beginning to work it down. "You're in my apartment, Lucy. Like, for _good_. I have to give you a proper welcome."

She laughed as he waggled his eyebrows and squeezed her ass. "Well if you insist."

"Oh, I do."

The soldier continued to try wrangling her pants off, but she wasn't helping him any, arms wrapped insistently around his neck. He grumbled against her mouth, but she just continued to giggle, hips wriggling against his.

"Lucyyy," he groaned, releasing her pants and letting his hands fall with exasperation.

"Wyaaatt," she replied. "Something you wanna- ah!" Her question was cut off as her knee slipped against the couch cushion and she suddenly went tumbling backwards out of his lap.

"Lucy!" Wyatt lunged forward after her, her slim body slipping right through his hands and onto the floor. He dropped to his knees, reaching for her to see if she was okay. As he gathered her up in his arms, though, he realized she was trembling with laughter. It was infectious and he couldn't help but join in, hugging her to him as their bodies shook.

"Sorry," she finally sheepishly apologized. "You might have to get used to that, too..."

"You fall off couches often?"

"Not often, per se... but, you know. It happens. Couches. Chairs. Beds."

"I'm rather invested in keeping you _on_ beds, actually." He said as he slyly finished ridding her of her pants.

She grinned and nipped at his bottom lip. "Well I don't seem to be on a bed yet."

"Let's fix that then, shall we?"

He fitted his hands under her backside and with surprising grace, stood them both up. Lucy, in his arms, let out a yelp, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist. The yelp morphed into a giddy laugh as she circled her arms around his neck again and he started marching them towards the newly made bed. Figuring she might as well entertain herself on the way, she kissed his jaw, then worked her way down his neck. She could feel little shivers running through him and it emboldened her. When she reached his bare shoulder she bit into it lightly with her teeth. Wyatt stopped mid step, head dipping toward her with a groan as he leaned into her. Their bodies listed as one and her back hit a wall.

"Lucy," he warned.

She giggled and bit him again, soothing the sting with a long lick of her tongue. He growled and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, angling her head toward him and diving forward for a fierce kiss. She met him beat for beat, clutching at his head as his hands slipped back to her hips and held her steady against the wall. Neither wanted to let up first. And with no where to be, no one to meet, and no work to get to, why _would_ they stop? Lucy couldn't resist raking her fingers through Wyatt's hair, scraping at his scalp. His grip on her tightened and his hips thrust involuntarily against her. She gasped, the heat coursing through her veins flaring hotter. He pressed against her, keeping her tight against the wall so one hand could leave her hip and run up her stomach to knead at a breast. She moaned into his mouth and undulated her hips against his. He thrust again, on purpose this time.

"Wait," she gasped against his mouth. "Bed."

He groaned and thrust again. "Who cares. Too far."

"But... our first time here should be..."

He dipped his hand into the cup of her bra and rolled her nipple between his fingers.

"Okay, fine."

He laughed at her easy acceptance. She nipped at his bottom lip and slid her hands from his hair to his shoulders, running down his bare back until she hit the waistband of his jeans. Making short work of the zipper she immediately got under his boxers and took him in hand. Yeah, they _definitely_ weren't making it to the bed. Wyatt's jeans and boxers were pooled around his feet in seconds. He reached for her underwear but she made a little growl, refusing to drop her legs from his waist. He didn't even try to argue, simply pulling the lace aside instead and pushing up into her. Her head fell back against the wall with a thud that he might have been concerned about if he wasn't too lost in the glorious sensation of being surrounded by her. The way her tight heat was purposely constricting around him, he knew she was fine.

"Come on, soldier," she murmured into his ear, clenching again. "Get moving."

"Sorry," he pulled out a bit and pushed back in. "You just feel so good."

She cried out on his next thrust. "Fuck," she swore. "You too."

He moved his upper body back so he could look at her. Her eyes were so dark with lust they were almost black, hair tousled by his hands, cheeks blushing pink as she started to pant, Wyatt thought she was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. And she was his. For good. She'd just moved into his apartment, to live with him and be with him and make a future with him.

He cursed under his breath, head falling until his forehead hit the wall beside hers, overwhelmed with it all. She chuckled faintly, tilting her head sideways to press her cheek to his.

'I know," she murmured. "I feel it too."

He thrust again, harder than before.

"Oh god," she choked. "Feel that too."

"Okay?"

"Fuck, yes. More."

They worked together to establish a rhythm that worked, since dealing with the force of gravity was a new challenge for them. One they were both very willing to explore. Detailed discovery would have to wait for another day, though. They were both too keyed up to be able to make anything last. Within moments they were peaking together, Wyatt's shout muffled into Lucy's neck while her cry rang loud and free.

With shaking legs, Wyatt lowered them to the ground, their limbs tangling as they sat in a sweaty, half-dressed heap. Wyatt kicked the boxers and jeans from around his feet, leaving him fully naked.

"You know what I love?" Wyatt panted, running a hand through his hair to get some stray bangs out of his face.

"Me?"

A smile burst over his face as he looked at her, grinning cheekily at him.

"Besides you."

"What?"

He reached around her back and unclasped her bra, pulling it off her arms a second later. Her gathered her towards him, her back against his chest, essentially sitting in his lap as he wrapped his arms around her and palmed both breasts.

Kissing up her neck, he whispered huskily into her ear. "No roommates."

She arched against him, pushing further into his hands and laying her head on his shoulder to further open her neck to him.

"We can do anything we want now," he continued. "Anywhere. Anytime. Like right here in the hallway, out in the open, the middle of the damn apartment."

She groaned, eyes falling shut as his hands grew bolder. She relished in his touch until one hand started questing down her stomach. She covered it with her own, stopping him.

"You know what I love?" she countered, turning around in his embrace to look at him. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"We don't have to put a chair against the bathroom door."

His eyes widened and she grinned, grabbing his hands and letting him pull them both upright. When they got to the shower, not only didn't they have to put a chair against the door… they didn't even bother to close the door at all.

To Be Continued…

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So... Up the whole story to M, or no?


	3. Chapter 3

Wyatt woke first the next morning, disoriented. His sleep addled brain didn't understand the warmth against him, the softness. For a moment he couldn't remember the last few days, the whole thing hazy and dreamlike. But as he continued to wake, awareness dawned, and he realized it was all real. It had all happened. The warmth in his arms was Lucy.

His life _was_ the dream.

He sighed, arms tightening around Lucy's sleeping form as he took advantage of the opportunity to just look at her, unabashedly. He hadn't really had the chance to before, not in Hedy Lamar's guesthouse, or at the Bunker. With so many people always around and interrupting, there was no chance to indulge in slow wake-ups. He was captivated by her sleeping form. Well, he was captivated by all her forms, but this was a new one he was eager to learn. The way her hair went wild, framing her face in a tangled halo. The softness around her eyes. The small upturn of her lips that he hoped he helped put there, even in sleep. The little sounds she'd sometimes make as her body shifted around. She looked peaceful, content, happy. There with him, in his bed.

Their bed.

He couldn't bear to wake her. When his bladder finally tore him away, he made sure to not disturb her. Who knew his army stealth skills could be used for such every day challenges? He successfully made it through the bathroom and out to the kitchen without her noticing. He suddenly felt energized, the happiness in his heart translating to a sudden urge to act, to do things. Normal things. Like make his girl breakfast in bed. He threw open the cupboard as ideas raced through his mind, ideas that came to an abrupt halt when he was faced with empty shelves. Oh. Right. He frowned and debated his options. He could just order something in; there were brunch places that did that these days, right? But no, he wanted to make something for her himself, with his own hands. While their sleep schedules had been erratic at best while living in the bunker, he knew for a fact Lucy was not a morning person. If she could sleep in, she would. He could probably nip out to the closest grocery store and be back long before she woke. With a decisive nod, he did just that.

He was proven right. He was out to the store and back with ingredients for pancakes within 20 minutes. Peeking in on Lucy after dropping off the groceries, he sawshe was indeed still dead to the world. With a grin he started in on breakfast, getting the coffee machine going while he worked. Everything came together perfectly, his excitement mounting as he even found the woven wood tray he had stashed in the back of a cupboard for some reason. He never could remember where it came from. He was just setting a bowl of freshly cut fruit on the tray, alongside a stacked plate of pancakes, syrup, coffee, and orange juice, ready to bring it to Lucy in bed, when he heard the sound of footsteps. He silently cursed, his face falling as he realized his surprise was ruined.

"Wyatt?" Lucy's sleepy voice came around the corner, the woman herself following a second later. Her hair was wild, her eyes were squinty, and she was wearing his shirt. His heart flip flopped in his chest and he almost dropped the tray. She must have taken it from the closet, purposely ignoring her newly hung clothes and choosing the long plaid instead. The sleeves were rolled up and it hung to her upper thighs, where it became obvious that she was wearing _only_ his shirt. She stopped short at the sight of him, standing in the kitchen with the beautifully laden breakfast tray.

He shrugged his shoulders and held the tray higher, finally finding his voice. "Surprise?"

She shuffled forward, eyes brightening as she continued to wake up. "Did... did you make me breakfast?"

"I wanted to surprise you. You know... breakfast in bed."

A grin lit up her face as she stepped into the kitchen. "Really?"

"Yeah. Guess I failed."

She shook her head emphatically. "No, it worked! I'm surprised!" She placed her hands on his wrists and encouraged him to set the tray down on the counter. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and stood up on her toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I love it," she smiled softly. "Thank you."

He beamed down at her, hands caressing her sides. "My pleasure, ma'am."

She continued to grin as she stood up to kiss him again, her arms wrapping tighter around him. His own slid forward to encircle her tiny waist. His touch seemed to jolt her into a full state of wakefulness, for it took only moments for the kiss to grow heated, tongues slicking against one another's as one of Lucy's legs hitched up against him. He groaned as she pressed her hips into his, her fingers winding into his hair. His hands gripped her waist and he plucked her right off the ground with ease, setting her up on the counter and stepping between her legs. She let out a breathless laugh at the sudden shift, her legs immediately wrapping around him. He buried his hands in her hair, angling her head to kiss her harder. After so long denying himself her touch, it seemed it was all he wanted now. If he could spend the rest of his life just kissing her, without stopping, he'd be a happy man. She seemed to have other plans though. She continued to work her mouth against his, just as deeply, just as passionately, but her hands began to wander, slipping under his t-shirt to slide up his abs, then back down again to toy with the edges of his pants. He shuddered against her and she grinned against his lips, hands quickly undoing his button and zipper.

Her hand slid down under his boxers and he had to finally break the kiss, laying his forehead against hers and breathing heavily as she stroked him once, twice.

"Lucy," he breathed.

She pulled her hand away and he looked at her askance, mouth open to protest but her hands went to the bottom of her pilfered shirt and in one swift move it was off and thrown aside. His jaw dropped, all protest dying as he gaped at her. Apparently, his shirt really had been _all_ she was wearing. Lucy Preston was now completely naked and perched on his kitchen counter.

Holy shit.

She was grinning at him again, her mouth quirked, sly and smug and so goddamn sexy it was almost too much to handle. But handle it he would. With a growl he surged forward, claiming her mouth once more, one hand gripping tight around the back of her neck to keep her in place as the other rose to her breast. He cupped the soft flesh fully, kneading it, swiping his thumb over and over her rapidly tightening peak. She moaned into him, scooting her hips forward to the edge of the counter to press against him. His hands left her to grab the edge of his own shirt, but she mumbled against his lips. Pushing his hands aside she grabbed the shirt herself, tugging it off him with a cheeky smile. She hummed in satisfaction as she looked over his bare chest and he couldn't help straightening his shoulders a bit with manly pride. She giggled at him then took hold of both his boxers and jeans, shoving them down as far as she could. He quickly stripped the rest of the way, almost tripping in his eagerness to kick them off. He couldn't help it. They were out of the bunker. Forever. Lucy had moved in with him. They were happening, and wouldn't stop happening, and could 'happen' whenever and wherever they wanted. By the way his blood was thundering in his veins just now he had a feeling they'd be happening a lot. He didn't think his desire for her could ever dimiish, be anything less than all-consuming. _God_ how he loved her...

His musings were cut short by the firm grip of Lucy, grabbing him between the legs and using her grip to gently pull him towards her. He grasped her hips, sending a thank you to the universe and the architects of the building for having made the countertop the absolute perfect height for this. Lucy balanced at the edge of it, legs wrapping around him once more as he slowly pushed into her. She sighed, her head dropping to his shoulder as her arms snuck under his to wrap around his back. He paused once he was fully sheathed, sucking in deep breaths to calm himself. _Damn_ did she feel good. Her head remained on his shoulder and he took the opportunity to kiss her neck, gloriously exposed to him. She made a noise of approval and he continued, laying kisses up and down the porcelain skin, his tongue peeking out to taste her. She shivered and he latched on, sucking gently. Her legs tightened around him, inner muscles squeezing, and he groaned, hips pushing harder against her without his control. She swore into his skin and he pulled back from her neck, holding her hips tight as he started to move.

They found a rhythm quickly, the new positioning working perfectly for them. But was it the countertop position that made it work, or was it just them? It seemed that in their limited time together thus far they worked in perfect unison no matter where they were. Like they were meant for each other, a perfect match. Their bodies seemed to know each other, sense every little thing the other needed and responded instinctively. When there was that little hitch in Lucy's breath, Wyatt knew to slip a hand down between them. When his rhythm faltered, just that tiny bit, she knew to squeeze her inner muscles again. When his thrusts got harder, faster, she sought out his lips for a final, hot kiss before pulling back to look him right in the eye. The look of each other, pupils blown, cheeks red, chests heaving, was enough to finish them both. With a final hard swipe of his thumb, Lucy was gone, Wyatt tumbling after her a second later. He kept thrusting, and rubbing his thumb over her, as long as he could, until it was all too much and he had to let go, his hands falling to grip the counter on either side of her.

She moved her arms to cradle his head, laying it down against her chest and shoulder, right above her heart. He could hear and feel it pounding beneath her soft skin. When he felt he could stand without support,t he put his arms around her once again, hugging her close. She sighed, now resting her head against his chest. One of his hands brushed lazily up her back to hold the back of her neck again, thumb moving gently back and forth as they held each other for a while. It was Lucy who finally pulled her head back, still holding him tight as she beamed up at him.

"Thanks for breakfast."

He laughed, his hand moving to her face, brushing a strand of hair away. "We haven't even eaten yet."

"I know. But I'm still satisfied."

He grinned smugly. "Me too."

She smiled wider and kissed him once, twice. A quick third. "I'm also impressed that we didn't knock the tray right off the counter."

He glanced to the side, realizing how close they were to the fully loaded breakfast tray, which itself was dangerously close to the end of the counter. He blew out a breath. "Yeah, no kidding."

Lucy reached out and tapped the edge of the tray. "Probably cold now. Sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it," he scoffed, taking the hand and holding it in his. "That's what microwaves are for."

"Ah, 21st century technology."

"Isn't it great?"

She squeezed his hand. "I think _this_ is great."

He was seriously his worried his heart would swell so much it would burst right out of his chest. "I love you," he couldn't help but say.

Her eyes went wide and she let out a soft, little gasp. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"I hope you don't. Cause I'm gonna say it a lot."

Her teeth came out to bite her bottom lip as she tried to contain a grin, her eyes bright and wide and looking at him with infinite tenderness. "Good."

He had to kiss her again. She sighed when he pulled away.

"For the record... I love you too."

He moved in for yet another kiss when suddenly his stomach grumbled. She laughed, turning her head so he hit her cheek instead of her lips.

"Now about that breakfast..."

The End

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Well, I'm calling it there, folks. This story is finis! Buuuut… the next one might just pick up right where we left off 😉 I hope you've enjoyed this little foray into domestic life, cause there's more comin' if you want it! And not just M stuff. I swear. Though there's more of that too... ahem.


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